


Academy's Next Top Model

by falseari



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Siblings, allison uses her powers, it doesn't go as she intended, set sometime after five disappears but before ben dies, they're kids in this, vanya's just happy to be included
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26112940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falseari/pseuds/falseari
Summary: Sometimes, Allison's powers make her feel like a monster.Or, Allison and Klaus play dress-up.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 24
Kudos: 147





	Academy's Next Top Model

**Author's Note:**

> i had this idea stuck in my head that allison has problems with powers getting her into a genie-like situation where you wish for something and get something totally awful on a technicality. here's my best shot at that.

Allison’s favorite days are those where her father is away on business. 

The whole house feels lighter. Klaus and Ben giggle at the breakfast table, unafraid of being reprimanded. Pogo lets Mom sit in on trainings, and Diego beams at her every time his knife sinks into its target. Even Luther’s marginally less on edge - when Vanya asks if she can join in the foot races Pogo is having them run, he doesn’t tell her no. Vanya loses every race by a mile, of course, but she’s smiling nonetheless. 

When Dad’s gone, Pogo gives them a half-hour of unrestricted free time every evening. Tonight, Allison and Klaus are dedicating the entirety of their time to one of their favorite games: Academy’s Next Top Model. 

They recruit Vanya to be the sole judge. Ben wants to finish reading his book, Luther's tired from training, and Diego would, quote, "rather do literally anything else." It’s okay, though, because Vanya takes her role seriously. She stands against the wall where Allison points, and swears up and down to Klaus that she’ll judge based on talent, not sisterhood. She pulls out a little notebook and pen to write scores with, and patiently waits for her siblings to go get dressed. 

Once she’s in her outfit, Allison steps out onto the runway, which runs from her bedroom all the way down the hall, ending at the top of the staircase. Klaus is already waiting for her, drowning in a floor length overcoat that must belong to Mom. Allison almost scoffs. This was going to be too easy. 

“You starting?” she asks her brother, biting back a smirk. 

“No, please,” he gestures dramatically to the runway, moving to the middle of the hall to stand beside Vanya. “Ladies first,” he insists. His goofy grin spreads across his face. 

Allison tosses her hair over her shoulder like the ladies she’s seen in movies. “Watch and learn,” she winks. 

She struts slowly down the hall, showing off the shimmering blue dress she’d worn on a mission that involved infiltrating a gala. A string of diamonds she’d snagged off a jewelry store robber (and “forgotten” to return) rests around her neck. She has a pair of the highest heels Mom owns on her feet. They’re a few sizes too big, but she’s hoping Vanya won’t knock her score for it. She pauses in front of her sister, blows a kiss to Klaus, and twirls, her dress billowing around her. 

Vanya grins and scribbles something down in her notebook. Allison goes to continue her walk, takes another step - 

And promptly falls on her ass. 

Vanya asks if she’s okay, but it’s drowned out by Klaus’s laughter. 

“Oooo!” he heckles, as Allison waves off Vanya’s attempt to help her up. “That’ll cost you points, sis! I don’t know if there’s any coming back from such a blunder! A model is supposed to be the epitome of grace, effortlessness, prestige!” Vanya’s smiling at his theatrics now. It’s hard not to. Allison hides her laughter behind an eye roll. 

“You don’t get to talk,” she chides, back on her feet. “You’re a boy, you have no idea how hard it is to walk in heels.” 

Klaus smirks. He’s shorter than Allison with the shoes she’s got on, so he stands on his tiptoes to stare her down eye-to-eye. “Oh, my naive little sister,” he sighs. “I could walk circles around you.” 

Allison grins right back at him. She slides the heels off her feet, holds them out to her brother. “I’d like to see you try.” 

“What? With this outfit? Why, I’d be laughed off the stage,” he replies, his hand pressed to his chest dramatically. 

“Well, then I guess you admit -” Allison starts, only to be interrupted by Klaus pushing a finger to her lips. 

“Just one moment, please,” he says to Vanya. He ducks into Allison’s bedroom, Mom’s heels in hand. 

Allison shakes her head, slumping against the wall to roll out her sore ankle. Vanya glances over at her, but goes back to staring at her notebook when Allison makes eye contact. Allison feels the silence grow thicker. She never really knows what to say to her sister, the only ordinary one out of the lot of them. What is it that normal people talk about? 

“I like your dress,” Vanya ventures. Her voice is soft, even. She’s the only sibling Allison’s never heard yell. 

“Thank you,” Allison says politely. “You can borrow it, if you want.” She can’t remember the last time she saw Vanya in anything besides her Academy uniform. 

Vanya gives her a tight-lipped smile, and the silence swells again. Allison’s relieved when Klaus reemerges. 

She can’t help but gape at the ridiculous outfit he’s got on. He’s wearing her flowy, flower-patterned crop top (the one Allison rumored an intern into letting her keep after a magazine photoshoot), her bright pink feather boa (which has left tufts of pink in his curly hair), and one of her Academy uniform skirts. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of oversized sunglasses, and his smile is highlighted by Allison’s sparkly lip gloss. Mom’s heels top it all off. They fit his feet far better than Allison’s. 

Of course, because it’s Klaus, he somehow makes it all look good. 

Klaus saunters down the hallway, waving and blowing kisses to some imaginary audience on his right. He twirls, poses, grabs Vanya’s hand and spins her around. Instead of stopping at the end of the hall, he turns back and walks it again, and again, faster each time but just as clean, rubbing it in Allison’s face all the way. 

“Alright, I get it!” she finally concedes. She lets herself join in with Vanya’s laughter, accepting defeat. 

“Oh no, I’m not done,” Klaus insists, flashing a toothy smile at his sisters. He takes a few steps back down the hallway, putting some distance between himself and the stairs. He tosses his sunglasses to Allison. 

Klaus raises both hands in the air, glances over to make sure he has his siblings’ full attention, and turns a perfect cartwheel in Mom’s heels. He bows dramatically, grinning when Vanya claps for him. 

Allison gives him some half-hearted applause. Because it was impressive, and because Klaus loves applause. 

“Well, Vanny?” he asks, his face flushed red from his acrobatics display. “I think we have a winner, do we not?” 

“You win, Klaus,” she affirms without hesitation. 

“Oh, did you hear that Allison? The honorable judge has spoken.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she waves him off. “One win, and suddenly your head’s bigger than the moon,” she snipes playfully, well aware that Klaus has won this game nearly as many times as she has. 

“It really wasn’t a fair fight, was it?” he asks, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “It’s simply impossible for a mere mortal to look as good in heels as me, that’s not your fault.” He pats her head, now with the height advantage of Mom’s shoes. 

An idea creeps into Allison’s head. “Is that so?” she asks, crossing her arms across her chest. 

“Aw, jealous?” Klaus teases. Vanya watches the two of them like they’re a captivating TV show. 

“Just a bit confused,” Allison explains. She sees Klaus search her face, trying to figure out the bit they’re doing now. “You seem to expect me to believe that you’ve never so much as wobbled in heels before.” 

“Well, I did just prove -” 

“But I heard a rumor,” Allison interrupts, her voice scandalized, “that you tripped down those stairs.” 

The playful smile melts off her brother’s face. His eyes cloud milky white. 

Allison has fallen down stairs countless times. So have all of her siblings, save for maybe Vanya. It’s a natural consequence of being forced to race up and down what feels like hundreds of flights of them during training. The worst that happens is some skinned hands and knees, the occasional nasty bruise. They know how to catch themselves. 

It never crosses her mind that a rumor might interfere with that. 

She giggles as her brother takes a few steps towards the stairs, nudging Vanya as he arrives at the edge. Her sister doesn’t look as entertained as she’d hoped. Well, Vanya never was a prankster anyway. What does she know? 

Klaus takes another step, missing the top stair entirely, planting his foot into empty space. Allison watches, grinning, as he flips head-over-literal-heels. 

Her stomach drops when she hears a sickening crack. 

Klaus tumbles all the way down. Hits the floor hard. Allison holds her breath, doesn’t notice her hands shaking, her heart racing. She stares at the crumpled form of her brother’s body, willing him to get up, laugh at her dumb prank, flip her off for good measure. 

He starts wailing, wailing like someone who can’t get enough air to scream, and Vanya runs down to him. 

Allison’s feet are fixed to the hallway carpet. 

She hears her sister yell, and Mom comes in, efficient but never panicked. She scoops up Klaus like he weighs nothing and suggests that Vanya head to bed, because free time ended two minutes and forty-one seconds ago. Tears fall from Vanya’s face, mixing with the blood in the carpet. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Allison whispers, over and over under her breath. She’s not sure who she’s trying to convince. Klaus and Mom are gone, trailed by her terrified sister. 

She stands there, staring at the dark blood and pink boa feathers that decorate the stairs. Sees him fall, over and over. 

Pogo finds her, minutes or hours later, hands still shaking. 

“Miss Allison?” he asks as he approaches, careful not to startle her. One couldn’t be too wary, with kids like Luther and Diego around. 

Kids like Allison. 

She looks at Pogo, but doesn’t say anything. 

“It’s far past time for you to be in bed. Grace is preoccupied, so I hope you don’t mind turning yourself in for the night.” He speaks with conviction, but it’s gentler than her father’s orders. 

Allison nods. Tells her feet to move. 

“Are you alright, Miss Allison?” Pogo asks, studying her face. She can’t remember if she’d been crying. 

_I didn’t mean to I didn’t mean to I didn’t mean to_

“Klaus fell down the stairs,” she whispers, not meeting Pogo’s eyes. 

“Ah yes, I didn’t realize you’d heard.” He pats Allison’s arm. An attempt at comfort. “Just a broken jaw, dear. Grace had to wire it shut, but in six to eight weeks your brother will be right as rain, I assure you.” 

_I broke his jaw._ Allison’s afraid she might vomit on the carpet. 

Pogo hums. “It’ll be a quiet few weeks, won’t it?” 

The words rush out of her in one breath. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean -” 

“Hardly your fault, Miss Allison,” Pogo hurriedly cuts her off. He’s not her father, but he’s still not great with displays of emotion. “These things happen when one insists on playing near the stairs in his mother’s heels,” he reasons dismissively. 

Allison bites her tongue. Pogo doesn’t know. Vanya didn’t tell him. 

“I guess,” she mutters softly. “Can I see him? Before I go to bed?” 

A voice in Allison’s head snaps that she doesn’t have a right to, but Pogo lets her go anyway. He’s still knocked out from the anesthesia, he warns, but Allison doesn’t care. That’s better, actually. Klaus won’t see her cry. He doesn’t like when she’s sad, always goes out of his way to cheer her up. 

She’s alone in the infirmary with her brother. His face is bruised, swollen beyond belief, but Mom cleaned all the blood off. She wants to hold his hand, tell him it’s going to be okay, but that feels wrong when she’s the reason he’s lying here. 

“I heard a rumor your jaw isn’t broken,” she stammers, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. It doesn’t work, of course. To her father’s dismay, she can’t change reality, and Klaus can’t hear her anyway. Regardless, she says it until Pogo returns to send her to bed, because god, does she want it to be true. 

\----------------- 

Klaus doesn’t remember the rumor when he wakes up. Hit his head too hard, Allison guesses. 

She can’t bring herself to tell him. _He’ll hate me,_ she thinks. Knows. It’s selfish, but she doesn’t want her brother to hate her. She wants Klaus to keep letting her paint his nails, keep making her laugh, keep beating her at modeling. 

She doesn’t tell him. Lets him think he really did just trip over Mom’s heels. Lets Dad lecture him for being so irresponsible and careless. 

Vanya never spills her secret, but she looks at her differently now.

**Author's Note:**

> alt ending: klaus actually does remember he just doesn't bring it up because he doesn't want allison to feel bad


End file.
